


A Mother's Struggle

by theunavenged (sulahnnehn)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood, Drug Addiction, Gen, Harm to Children, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Violence, Mother-Son Relationship, One Shot, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulahnnehn/pseuds/theunavenged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started as a headcanon of mine (i.e. Jason only turned to thievery after his mom got into trouble with loan sharks) then evolved into a short story exploring Catherine's relationship with young Jason and her struggle with addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mother's Struggle

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [jaybirbtodd](http://jaybirbtodd.tumblr.com) for reading this and encouraging me to finish it ♥

Catherine held the burning cigarette between two trembling fingers, shaking free bits of ash onto the table below. The word was out: Willis was dead. The bastard left her with nothing but his gambling debts, and now the sharks were circling. Two of her late husband’s associates were standing in her kitchen, their appetites whetted for either cash or blood.

She looked up at the men, trying her best to hold back both tears and vomit. “I’ll get your money, I swear. I just need more time. Please.”

Vinny, the elder of the pair—a short man with a greasy black ponytail and a leathery face made for scowls—lunged forward and gripped the table with both hands, causing Catherine to jump back with a gasp and nearly spill from her chair.

“Do we look like we represent a charitable organization, lady?” he snarled, his upper lip curling to reveal crooked, nicotine-stained teeth. “We ain’t in the habit of offering leniency to junkies and degenerates.”

“Look around,” Catherine said, waving her hand at the dilapidated apartment. “I’ve got nothing to give you.”

She and Willis were never well-off but there was a time when this little apartment of theirs had a touch of class. She decorated it herself, kept it spotless—she desperately wanted her Willis to be happy and proud. She was a naive child back then, still wrapped up in a schoolgirl’s fantasy of having a “gangster” as a husband. But over the years their apartment’s upscale facade chipped away, much like that of their marriage. Now the home they had once shared was run-down and filthy. The plaster walls were full of cracks and yellowing from the years of cigarette smoke. The hardwood floors were covered in scuffs, scratches, and layers of grime. Rats and roaches brazenly scurried about from their holes in the woodwork. Most of the furniture and decor had been sold off to pay bills… or to feed her addictions.

“Please, you have to understand,” Catherine pleaded, her voice faltering now. “Willis left me with nothing. Not a dime. I'm a single mom with a kid to feed. Please give me a break.”

Vinny suddenly lunged at her again, grabbing her by the wrist. Catherine yelped as he yanked up her arm and ripped back her sleeve. The inside of her elbow was dotted with needle holes, marking her attempts to escape the pain of the present and return to those happier days when a well-kept apartment was her only concern.

“A kid to feed, huh?” Vinny scoffed. “Looks to me like you’re shooting most of his meals into your arm.”

Vinny’s partner laughed, and Catherine’s eyes darted toward the second man who hung back behind Vinny with his arms crossed against his chest. She didn’t recognize the tall, 30-something man, but those hawk-like features and twinkling, dark eyes of his sent a chill racing down her spine. Vinny had a reputation for his hot temper, but this other man with his calm demeanor and evident amusement for her situation seemed far more dangerous.

Catherine swallowed hard, hoping to hide some of her fear from these animals, but when she spoke her voice was a frightened squeak. “I’m gonna stay clean from now on, I swear. I’ll… I’ll go back to work. Whatever it takes. I’ll have your money soon, just please don’t hurt me.”

“Mom?” a small voice asked warily.

Catherine's heart leapt into her throat and she let out a strangled cry. Vinny dropped her arm, and both men spun around to face the interruption. Behind them stood a 10-year-old boy, hands stuffed into the pockets of worn, school-issued khakis, suspiciously eying the strangers. There was no hope in holding back her tears now, which trickled down her cheeks at the sight of her son. _Why? Why did he have to come home_ now _of all times?_ She slid out of her seat at the table and pushed past Vinny, hurrying toward her son. The scrawny boy, with his mop of black hair and icy blue eyes, was a shadow of his late father. Even his casual stance and mistrustful frown reminded her of the man she once loved. Catherine kneeled in front of the boy. She pushed a curl behind his ear and forced herself to smile at him, but the boy glared through her, his eyes still fixed on the two men.

“Jason, sweetheart,” Catherine spoke tenderly. She took her son's face in her hands—how drawn it had become over the past year, how little of his darling “baby fat” now remained—and gently turned it toward her own. When his eyes finally met hers and she saw the anger burning behind them, a shiver went through her. She tried to keep her voice steady, despite the fear and nausea and guilt and wistfulness all weighing down on her at once. “Why don’t you go outside and play until your father’s friends leave, okay?”

“Yeah kid. Listen to your mom and beat it,” the tall man seconded in a sinister tone as dark and cold as his eyes.

But Catherine knew that Jason wouldn’t listen. He never listened, at least not when it came to protecting her. Her son knew exactly who these men were, why they were there, and what they were after. Jason was a smart kid—he had to be. You grew up fast when you were thrust into this pitiful life of his. With a two-bit criminal father who preferred the company of his “whores” to his family, and a drug-addicted mother who was too weak to cope with losing the affections of her first love, Jason was forced to step up and take over the responsibility of providing for his family. A child, who should be spending his summers playing baseball or video games, was instead out on the crime-ridden streets of Gotham City begging for food and money so that he and his pathetic excuse for a mother wouldn’t starve to death. Catherine had to straighten up for Jason’s sake. Willis was gone for good this time, and her sweet son needed a mother more than ever now.

Jason glanced from Catherine to the tall man and back. Catherine stroked her son’s hair once more and tried to hold onto his gaze with a reassuring smile but she felt her lips start to quiver. _Please Jason, just this once_ , she begged him silently. _Let me take care of myself._ But her fearlessly stubborn son would never turn his back on her, even in the face of danger— _especially_ in the face of danger. Jason’s face darkened as he narrowed his eyes at the tall man and said: “Get out of my apartment.”

Catherine shrunk away helplessly, sitting back onto her calves, her shoulders slumped. Her worst fear was realized; they would hurt him for this. She squeezed her eyes shut but the tears still leaked out. “Jason…” she whimpered under her breath.

The tall man uncrossed his arms and took a step toward Jason. “You hear something, Vin?” he asked his partner over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think this little punk just ordered us to leave,” Vinny sneered in response.

A menacing smirk played upon the tall man’s lips as he studied Jason from head to toe like a predator sizing up his prey. “This Willis’ brat?” he asked.

Catherine pushed herself to her feet and stood trembling between the two men and her son. Her mind raced in circles as she desperately searched for the words that might convince these animals to leave Jason and herself alone and unharmed. Why would this man ask about Willis? Were they friends perhaps? Could she use that relationship to barter for their safety? No, that was ridiculous; relationships were meaningless in Willis’ line of work. And what if this man hated Willis instead? Knowing her late husband, he’d probably made more enemies than allies in his life. _Oh God, my poor Willis… dead_. And now his son was in danger… she couldn’t lose them both. Catherine forced back the fresh tears that pooled in her eyes and said the only words she could think of: “He didn’t mean to disrespect you. Please don’t hurt him.”

The tall man shoved past Catherine toward Jason. At over six feet tall, the man loomed over her son, who was barely half the man's height, but Jason didn't back down. “Your degenerate parents owe us big kid, and we ain't leaving here empty handed,” the tall man said.

Jason pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms, matching the tall man’s twinkling glare with an icy one of his own. “Well, we don’t have your money.”

The tall man grinned at Jason's defiance then turned his back to them. Fear scraped like a file along Catherine’s nerves as she watched the man retrieve a carving knife from beside her sink. She stepped between the man and her son once more, like a mama bear protecting her cub, but she lacked both the claws and fangs for defense. Her heart pounded in her chest as the tall man stalked them with knife in hand, a bloodthirsty smile stretched across his face. Catherine held her breath, fighting the urge to run screaming, and backed away from the man, pushing Jason behind her; but when the man reached out and grabbed her, Catherine shrieked in terror. He spun her around to face her son, holding her tight against his chest, then pressed the blade down against her arm, drawing a line of blood. His breath was heavy with the scent of cigarettes and bourbon and hot against her face when he spoke. “Then how ‘bout I take your pretty mom’s arm back to our boss since that’s where our money’s been going.”

Jason clenched his fists at his sides, and the look he shot the tall man was cold enough to frighten even Catherine. “Hurt my mom and I’ll kill you both.”

The tall man pushed Catherine away from him and tossed the knife aside, then he reached around his back and pulled a pistol from the waistband of his pants. Catherine screamed and clutched at the man’s shoulders, but he easily shrugged her off and she stumbled to the floor.

“That’s a big bark for such a small pup,” the tall man scoffed as he stepped up to Jason. “You know what I think? I think you don’t have the stomach for the bite. You ever killed a man, tough guy?” The tall man pressed the barrel of his gun against Jason’s forehead. “Splattered his brains all over your school clothes?”

“Oh God, no!” Catherine wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she crawled toward the tall man. It had happened so fast. She had feared these men might hurt her son but not like this, _never_ like this. The room seemed to be spinning as everything spiraled further and further out of her control. Unbidden memories flashed in her mind. How many times had she awoken after another week-long binge and found herself warm, wrapped up in blankets, with her sweet son snuggled beside her? How many times had her baby boy, who was nothing but skin and bones himself, fed her when she was too weak to sit up and take care of herself? Now he needed his mother to take care of him and all she could do was beg for his life. “He’s just a kid! I’ll do anything you want— _anything_ —just please don’t hurt my baby!”

But Jason didn’t even flinch. “There’s a first time for everything,” he answered the tall man in a voice as serious as the grave, a tone that no 10-year-old child should _ever_ have to use.

The tall man sighed. “Your old man should’ve taught you a thing or two about respect.”

“You ain’t gonna shoot me.”

“And why’s that, kid?”

“‘Cause you want your money, and I’m the one who’s gonna pay ya.”

Jason reached into his pocket, retrieved a folded fifty dollar bill, and handed it to the tall man. The tall man shook the bill out straight, held it up and snickered, then his dark gaze shifted back down to Jason. Catherine tried to pull herself up off of the floor but her limbs refused to respond. Horror had her trapped in its terrible grip as she witnessed her only son staring down the barrel of that gun. She couldn’t even breathe. Her heart raced in anticipation of the man’s reaction while Jason remained unshaken, challenging the tall man with a defiant scowl.

The corner of the man’s mouth curled up into a half-smile, and he lowered his gun as he pocketed the bill. Relief washed over Catherine like a rainstorm on a muggy summer day, and she exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours. With trembling hands she gripped a nearby chair and dragged herself up to her feet. She prayed that fifty dollar bill would be enough to satisfy the men for now...

...but of course in this fucked-up world of theirs, it wasn't even close.

The tall man laughed under his breath, and before Catherine could comprehend what was happening, he reached back then brought the butt of his pistol down hard across Jason’s mouth. _Crack!_ The sickening sound of metal against teeth and flesh and bone rang through the apartment like a gunshot, then Jason fell to the floor, grunting as his head thudded against the hardwood. Catherine made to dash to his side but was violently halted by a sharp burst of pain in her scalp that left her gasping for breath. Vinny had caught her by her long, copper hair and yanked her backwards, nearly jerking her off of her feet. He wrapped his calloused hands around her arms, holding her back against his chest, keeping her away from her son who needed her.

“Jason!” Catherine screamed as she struggled to escape Vinny’s iron grip, clawing at his hands, pounding her fists against his sides, but Vinny only laughed at her futile attempts.

Jason sat up slowly and shook his head, as if trying to clear away the dizziness, then looked up at the tall man looming over him. The blow had split open Jason’s lip and blood trickled down his chin from the cut. The tall man stuffed the pistol back into the waistband of his pants then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from the bottom of his hand. “That’s for holding out on us,” he sneered.

Though Jason’s blue eyes were hazy from the blow, Catherine could still see the rage burning in them, boring holes into the tall man’s skin. For an instant she feared her son would leap from the floor and attack the man with his fists, but Jason only retaliated by spitting blood and a tooth at him.

Suddenly she was flung aside, arms flailing like a ragdoll as she fought to keep her balance, and Vinny was charging toward her son then snatching him up by a fistful of black hair.

“You little shit!” Vinny bellowed, spittle flying from between his meaty lips as he slammed Jason face-first into the wall. The impact broke his nose with a _crunch_ , and Jason moaned as his limp body slid down the wall, leaving a smeared trail of blood behind. Then Vinny dropped to one knee and jerked the disoriented boy up again by his hair. This time Jason cringed away, shielding his bloody mess of a face with a skinny arm.

The pain had sucked all of the rage and courage and defiance from him, leaving behind a small, frightened child who didn't look a day older than ten. Seeing her foolhardy baby boy so vulnerable—with his swollen face, his terrified expression, his feeble attempt to protect himself—chased away her fear, and Catherine's feral maternal instincts took control.

“Stop it!” she howled as she threw herself onto Vinny’s back, wrapping both of her arms around his thick neck, squeezing as hard as she could, trying with all of her strength to pry the stump of a man off of her son. Vinny dropped Jason, then his hands were around Catherine's forearms, peeling them from his neck as he straightened and turned his anger on her. She tried to back away but Vinny reached out and grabbed her by the throat, choking off a frightened gasp. He grinned as his grip tightened around her neck, cutting off her airflow. Catherine's fingers found his hand and she dug her nails into his flesh, too focused on loosening his grip to notice his other hand swinging back.

Her world went dark. She staggered blindly then fell to her hands and knees, coughing. Her head was ringing, her face was aching, and for a split second, she forgot about everything except her pain.

But then a boy cried “Mom!”

The sound of her son's frightened voice ripped her mind from the fog of confusion, and just as her vision cleared she saw Vinny spin around and grab the boy by the collar of his blood-stained t-shirt, twisting it in one hand, lifting him up off his feet. Jason's eyes grew wide with terror as Vinny threw back a clenched fist.

“No!” Catherine half-wheezed, half-sobbed, reaching her arm out helplessly towards her baby boy.

Skin clapped against skin as the tall man caught his partner by the wrist before he could land his punch. “That's enough, Vin.”

Vinny frowned but didn't argue. He wrenched his arm free from the tall man then released his grip on Jason's shirt, letting the boy drop to his knees. Jason wiped the blood pouring from his broken nose with the back of his wrist as the tall man crouched down in front of him.

“I kinda like this kid,” the tall man smiled as he pulled out his handkerchief and offered it to Jason. “He's got bigger brass than his old man ever did.”

Jason glared at the tall man then begrudgingly accepted the handkerchief, holding it beneath his nostrils.

“Listen kid, you keep your word and bring us what your parents owe and we might have some work for ya,” the tall man said as he straightened. “From the looks of this shithole, I think you and your mom could use the extra cash.”

Jason's face grew dark again then he spat: “I'll get your money, you get the hell out of my place!”

The tall man laughed heartily at Jason’s retort before reaching down and mussing up the boy’s hair. “You better watch it pup, or that bark of yours is gonna get you killed someday.”

  
Then the men were gone. Catherine could hardly believe it. They had left, and she was still alive. More importantly, her precious son was still alive.

“Mom, you're bleeding!” she heard Jason exclaim, his voice an echo in her mind. The world seemed far away. She watched her son leap from the floor and dash toward the sink, completely heedless of his own bloody face.

Catherine then realized that she was still sprawled on the floor where she had fallen after Vinny cuffed her across the face. She absently touched a thin line of blood that dribbled from the corner of her lips. Her mouth was filled with the coppery taste from where she had bitten the inside of her cheek. She could already feel the bruise on the side of her face swelling up, starting to shut her left eye. The ringing in her head had turned to incessant pounding, making it damn near impossible for her to remember where she had stashed that bottle of Vicodin.

When Jason came racing to her side with a damp rag in hand, Catherine snatched it away from him and gripped him firmly by the shoulders, giving him a shake.

“What were you thinking?” she snapped. “Those men could’ve killed you!”

Jason’s face fell, and Catherine’s heart sank as she saw a look of utter dejection spread across his boyish features. He lowered his eyes then ran a hand through his tangled hair—a nervous habit he’d had since he was a toddler, since he’d come into her life. His voice was small and full of concern when he spoke: “They were hurting you. I had to do _something_. Please don’t me mad at me.”

Catherine pulled him into a warm embrace, hugging him so tightly to her that she could feel his heart beating against her chest. “Oh sweetheart, I could never be mad at you. But please, promise me that you’ll never do that again, okay Jase?”

Why didn’t he hate her? She couldn’t understand. After the life she forced him to live, after all the times he needed her but she wasn’t there for him—he should resent her, yet he had risked his life to protect her. His button nose was a bloody mess because he refused to back down from the men who threatened her.

She felt another wave of nausea roll over her, but it wasn’t from the fear or the withdrawals. It was guilt that made her stomach turn, the shame and disgust at what she had become. What kind of mother’s first thought was about stashed painkillers for herself after she had witnessed two grown men beat her son? What kind of mother spent most of her days so doped up that she barely knew where she was, much worse, where her 10-year-old child was? And the most sickening thought of all, the one that nearly sent her into a panic: was she even strong enough to change, to be the kind of mother that Jason deserved? Was it even in her nature?

When she finally pulled away, Jason was grinning at her with crimson-stained teeth, his tongue sticking through a gap in his lower gums where a tooth was missing. “Look, I lost dat toof,” he announced proudly, like it was some badge of honor.

Then Catherine suddenly burst into much-needed laughter. She couldn’t help but laugh at her son’s carefree attitude in spite of everything that had happened, which earned her an even bigger grin. She swept his hair back and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. It was difficult for her to reconcile the tough as nails kid who never backed down from a fight with the cheerful boy who was standing in front of her now, beaming at her with pride because he'd lost a tooth. This was the little boy who liked to read her books about wizards and tell her stories he made up about superheroes; the little boy with the busted lip and bloody face who carried the weight of a broken home on his tiny shoulders. He was only 10 and already more of a man than Willis ever was. Her laughter turned to weeping.

“Mom, please don’t cry. Everything’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll find a way to get their money. I won’t let them hurt you.”

She believed him. She straightened her shoulders and smiled through her tears. “No, this is my responsibility, not yours,” she said as she gently touched the rag to his face, dabbing at the dried blood. “I’ll find a job. Two jobs if I have to. We’ll make ends meet.” She spoke the words with the most confident tone she could muster.

Jason’s face brightened. “Really? I mean, maybe if you’re working you won’t need the drugs anymore, y’know?” He paused for a moment then his big blue eyes grew wide with excitement as he blurted out his idea: “What if you go back to those meetings again? I can go with you. And, and I can even be your sponsor!”

Even if she doubted herself, her precious son believed in her, and that gave her strength. She hugged him again, cradling his head in her hand, her voice breaking with emotion. “I’m gonna get clean for you baby, I swear. Then you can go back to school and be a normal kid. You’re such a good boy, you don’t deserve any of this.”

This time it was Jason who pulled away from her embrace, smiling at her as he wiped a tear off of her cheek with his finger. “You’re a good mom, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading this, promotion on Tumblr would be greatly appreciated! [A Mother's Struggle](https://www.tumblr.com/reblog/132160324580/G8TiegA1)


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